


Plastic Spoon

by TrevorPhilipsismySpiritAnimal (lazysatyr)



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Just friends spooning, M/M, Many cursewords, One Shot, Trevor Angst, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-26
Updated: 2014-02-26
Packaged: 2018-01-13 21:44:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1241761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazysatyr/pseuds/TrevorPhilipsismySpiritAnimal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trevor and Franklin decide to take advantage of a beautiful LS evening and go for some drinks... Lots of drinks...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Plastic Spoon

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little one shot I had stuck in my head for a few days after I had Trevor and Franklin hang out, just the two of them. It's actually based on a conversation they sometimes have after getting drunk together in game. Some of the dialogue is actually from the game itself, though I took some liberty :3
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy :D

The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in beautiful hues of pink, purple and blue overhead. There was even a warm breeze flowing through the Vinewood Hills that gave a sense of calm, up here above the cesspit of city lights below.  
  
Trevor popped open the door on his Bodhi, sliding into the driver’s seat. He glanced up at the sky, wincing at the intense colors.  
  
Sure was a nice view from up here.    
  
He sat there in silence for a moment, staring into the dimming sun as it dipped into the horizon.  Silence surrounded him for a moment, and with it came the overwhelming screaming in his mind.  He forced himself to turn his gaze away from the fiery ball in the sky, and instead glanced at the passenger seat where his phone lay.  He picked it up, swiping a finger over the touch screen which left a streak of smudged gore in its wake.  
  
Oops, heh.  
  
He wiped the phone’s screen on his already filthy V-neck t-shirt and wiped his blood-caked hands on his tattered blue jeans. He glanced back over the view once more, feeling a hollow pang in his chest.  
  
Another fucking lonely night in Los Santos.  
  
Once his hands were dry, he lifted his phone up to his weary eyes once more. He found Michael in his contacts and dialed.    
  
Busy... Typical...  
  
“FUCK.” He snapped, and almost threw his phone.  Mmhhhhn.  
  
He navigated back to his contacts and found Franklin, dialing without hesitation. This time it rang.  
  
Franklin had been sitting on his designer couch in his Vinewood condo.  Chop laid beside him with his huge skull in Frankin’s lap. He was staring at the beautiful sunset outside his front window, smoking a joint, thinking about how empty his house always was… It was beautiful, smartly designed, but most of all, devoid of life. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. Trevor? Of all people, Trevor was actually the one who called him the most. He answered and put the phone to his ear.  
  
“’Sup T?”  
  
“Eeeyy Frankie! I need some company. Wanna hang out?”  
  
Franklin hesitated.  
  
Hanging with Trevor always meant some sort of craziness.  
  
“Ehh, yeah awright, homie. Pick me up at my place.”  
  
“Watch your back, I’m fast like the wind.”  
  
Trevor gleamed. He was instantly excited for a man-date, and started up the Bodhi at once. He slammed on the gas pedal, sending the wheels spinning in an instant, spraying gravel and dust over the shallow grave of a beheaded hitchhiker which happened to be the afternoon’s entertainment. He drove impatiently through the hills, cutting off expensive sports cars with his shitty, dilapidated pick-up. Anyone who spotted Mr. Raspberry Jam in their rear view should heed the warning.  
  
Franklin got himself dressed in a hoodie and jeans and waited near the door. He heard a car pull into his short driveway and heard Trevor’s intense trucker horn reverberate the whole house, sending Chop into a barking fit.  
  
Franklin stepped outside, locking his front door behind him.  
  
“Ey hombre.” Trevor said, leaning his head on one hand, elbow against his car door, his other hand gripping the top of the steering wheel.

  
“Where to, dawg? Should we get some drinks?” Frankin said, opening the passenger door, “Lots… of drinks?” he said, noticing the state of Trevor’s stained clothes, his scarred, smudged face; his wild eyes. Trevor’s smell was the most assaulting of all the senses, sending Franklin’s eyes watering.

  
“Shit man, don’t you ever bathe?” Franklin sputtered, lifting the neck of his hoodie over his nose.

“What!? WHAAAT!? That’s the first thing you think to say to me? Some buddy you are.” Trevor growled, and neither of them were sure if he was being serious.

“I haven’t slept in 3 days. I’m not sure I’m even capable of a shower at this point.”

  
“If you say so man. Let’s just go.”

  
He knew what he was getting into when he agreed to hang out with Trevor, but somehow he was always surprised. Then again, kicking it with Trevor did beat spending another night alone at home.

  
Trevor started the engine and reversed back onto the road.

  
“So how you been, man?” Franklin asked earnestly.

  
“Oh, you know, the usual. Called up Michael to hang out too, but as usual, FUCKING busy.”

  
“Well I guess it’s just us then.” Franklin said, glancing out his window at the still-gorgeous sunset. By now, he had gotten used to Trevor’s scent. It was the sort of thing you had to just accept about the guy.

  
“That’s right homie, just you and me. Romantic, yes?” Trevor smirked.

  
“Yeah, romantic as fuck.” Franklin said, rolling his eyes.

  
“You know, that’s a fuckin’ great idea you had. Let’s go get looottttsssss of drinks.” Trevor said, swerving dangerously, finally set on his destination. Other drivers slammed on their breaks and laid on their horns as he swerved into oncoming traffic, hitting a street sign that happened to be in his way.

  
“Fuck dude, you tryin’ to kill us!?” Franklin yelled.

  
“I’ve been TRYING for weeks. Haven’t you noticed?” Trevor said, eyes locked on the road.

  
Soon enough, they arrived at Bahama Mama’s and Trevor parked half-way on the sidewalk. Franklin was just glad they weren’t in Trevor’s Bodhi anymore. He liked supeing up cars too, but Trevor’s pick-up appeared to be modded purely for destruction.

  
“Alright buddy, let’s go get shitty.” Trevor said, yanking the keys from the ignition. They stepped inside and drank for hours.  
  
***  
  
At about 2 am the two friends stumbled clumsily from the bar.

  
“Shit man, I’m drunk as hell!” Franklin mused.

  
“Lightweight…” Trevor slurred, staggering to his truck. He flopped against the driver’s side door clumsily, grabbing on with both arms, giggling as he pulled himself to his feet again. Frankin laughed drunkenly, watching Trevor make an ass of himself.

   
Franklin was buzzed, but he had cut himself off far before the point of losing control. He knew not to get out of hand when he was around Trevor. To be honest, he was always kinda concerned that the psychopath may try to spike his drink and he'd wake up in the middle of the desert with a sore asshole and a missing kidney or something...

  
“Maaann, I’m so glad we’re friends.” Trevor said, finally managing to get into the driver’s seat, shutting the door behind him. Franklin climbed back into the passenger’s seat.

  
“Yeah, me too man.” Frankin said, sounding unintentionally skeptical.

  
Trevor blearily searched for the right key on his keyring.  As soon as he found it, he jabbed it violently into the ignition.

  
“You sure you should be drivin’ man?” Franklin said, now a little concerned.

  
“Never been more sure in my life, brother.” Trevor grumbled, as if his words meant more than they really did. He pulled from his ‘parking spot’ quickly and swerved into traffic.

  
“No really… You’re like the only person who actually pretends to care about me, you know?” Trevor  said, glancing over at Franklin in what appeared to be a moment of lucidity.

  
Franklin was often surprised by the depth that could be seen in Trevor’s eyes.  Even if they weren’t bulging with anger and hate, they were uncomfortable to look into. Sometimes his eyes were deep pits of nightmarish sadness, and he could actually seem quite vulnerable, especially when he was this drunk.

  
“Seriously, homie, I’m glad too.” Franklin said, wanting Trevor to lose that pathetic look. 

Sometimes Franklin questioned his life choices… Like going out drinking with an emotionally unhinged serial killer…

“Say… Do you like me, kid?” Trevor asked. It seemed like a loaded question.

“Yeah homes, you’re my favorite psychopath.” Franklin said confidently, “You, or Michael… Or Lamar… Or me… Shit, I only know psychos…  That’s not good…”

“-Because I love you man…  I love you.”  Trevor continued.

  
“Uh... That’s nice.”  Franklin said, a little uncomfortable.

  
“I love you…  I fuckin’ love you…  You’re – Fuck man, you’re… “ Trevor’s eyes moved from the swirling road in front of him to his friend in the passenger’s seat. “Do you want to hold me?”

  
Franklin recoiled a bit, definitely uncomfortable now.

  
“Do you?!” Trevor asked, a little too desperately.

  
“Nah homie, I’m good.”

  
“HOLD ME!!!” Trevor snapped, his foot a little too heavy on the gas pedal, his hands barely controlling the massive truck.

  
“NO!! Fuck man, hold yourself together so we don’t die in this thing!” Franklin shouted, reaching over to try and steady the steering wheel with one hand, the other holding onto the roll cage.

  
“But I love you!” Trevor slurred, “L-like a brother… I’m sorry… I feel – my head is spinning… Forget everything I said.”

  
Franklin felt a little relieved.  Trevor was back in control of the Bodhi…  at least as in control as he could be, as drunk as he was.  He seemed to be driving aimlessly now, a sad expression on his face.

  
 “It’s all good homie, seriously.’ Frankin said, “But come on man, chill. My house is just a block or two away, let’s go kick it so you can sober up a bit.”

  
Trevor sniffled. He wiped his nose on the back of his arm, then wiped his eyes with his palm, leaving streaks of once dried blood wetted with tears that Franklin hadn’t noticed before.

  
 “Everyone hates me…” Trevor muttered to himself.

  
“C’mon man, let’s go chill for a while.” Franklin said, attempting to make Trevor feel better. Man, of all the drugs he’d seen Trevor do, alcohol seemed to fuck him up the most…

  
They arrived, finally, at Franklin’s house and Trevor parked crookedly in front.

  
Franklin unlocked the front door and flipped on a few lights. Chop sprang from his bed and raced to the front door, happy to see Franklin. Chop wasn’t used to visitors however, so he began barking viciously at the strange, filthy, balding man who was now standing in the foyer.

  
“Aww Chop, shut your adorable mug.” Trevor said, reaching over to pat Chop’s head despite the clear warning signs the canine was showing. To Franklin’s surprise, Chop only sniffed his hand and began licking it happily, letting Trevor pat his head.

  
“Hey man, if you wanna crash on my couch, ‘s all good. I don’t mind, it’s nice to have a guest once in a while.” Franklin said, pulling his hoodie off and hanging it in the closet near the front door.

  
“Ahh, well that’s very nice of you, Frankie.” Trevor said, standing up straight. He peered around, realizing he’d never come inside Franklin’s house before. “So this is the place Lesty hooked you up with, huh?”

  
“Yeah, sure as fuck beats my bitch ass aunt’s house.” Franklin noted.

  
“Speaking of your aunt… How’s she doin’?” Trevor asked, coyly.

  
“Don’t even fucking start with that shit, T.” Franklin waved it off.  He went in search of his stash.

  
Trevor took the liberty of wandering around Franklin’s house with curiosity.  He stepped into the TV room and scoffed, “Nice big HD TV, F… We should share a skin flick. That’s always fun.”

  
Franklin rolled his eyes and didn’t bother answering.  He stepped into the TV room, bong in one hand and a small pouch in the other.

  
“Ey, I gotta go piss, I’ll be right back.” Franklin said, placing his things on the coffee table.

  
Trevor took this as an opportunity to do some snooping. He looked around the top floor curiously, then walked down the staircase, leaving handprints on the clean, cream-white walls all the way down.

  
Franklin was washing his hands when he heard a thump and perhaps the sound of something breaking downstairs. He stepped out of the bathroom and found the top floor empty. He grabbed his bong and stash, then quickly searched for Trevor, straightening a painting or two on his way.  When he came downstairs, he found Trevor lounging on his bed, looking comfortable, his muddy boots discarded on the floor in front of it.

  
“Hey, how bout we hang in the living room?” Franklin suggested.

  
“Man this is a nice room. I bet the ladies really love it.” Trevor smirked, ignoring the suggestion. He could see Franklin’s hackles begin to raise.  He couldn’t help but push buttons. “Ah, yeah, this bed is really comfy.” Trevor noted.

  
Franklin bristled, but resigned to sit beside Trevor on the bed and load a bowl.  He offered it to Trevor, who waved it off.

  
“Nah, I don’t do that shit anymore.” He said, matter-of-factly.

  
“You of all people, abstainin’.” Franklin said, then hit the bong himself. “Your loss anyway homes, this shit’s dank as hell.”

  
“Mmh, well maybe just a hit then...” Trevor said, sitting up to take the bong. Franklin breathed out a huge plume of smoke and coughed, covering his mouth with his balled fist. Trevor took a large hit himself and held it a while, leaning back against the bed again before he let it out, coughing lightly.

  
“Shit, that is good…” Trevor said.  Franklin took another hit.

  
Trevor stared up at the ceiling. He was still feeling quite drunk, and the weed gave him a relaxed buzz he hadn’t felt in a really long time. He felt... almost calm.

  
“I meant what I said earlier, you know.” Trevor said.

  
“I know homie…  You’re a good friend… In ways even M can never be.” Franklin said, candidly.

  
“No, I mean about how I want you to hold me.”

  
Trevor held a straight face.  He unabashedly reached down into the front of his jeans to re-adjust himself.

  
“Yeah, uh, this just went to a level I’m not real comfortable with going to, dawg.” Franklin said.

  
Trevor shrugged, sitting up to take another big hit off the bong, then rolled onto his side, his back to Franklin.

  
Franklin shook his head in disbelief.  He took another long drag from his bong before placing it on his bedside table. He heard a dozy sigh escape from Trevor.

  
“Man, you can’t sleep here.”

  
Trevor didn’t bother replying.

  
 “You’ fuckin’ crazy, man.” Franklin said, but Trevor didn’t respond with any clever quip. He was beginning to breathe slowly, steadily.

  
Franklin sighed heavily, stood up and walked to his closet to change into some shorts. How did he manage to wind up with Trevor sleeping in his bed? His brow furrowed, feeling quite conflicted about it.  Trevor’s abandonment issues didn’t serve as some sort of ‘I can do whatever I want’ VIP pass.  He knew Trevor was often desperate for attention, for contact, for companionship…  But he wasn’t cool with this shit…

  
He glanced over at Trevor, considering shaking him awake… Then he noticed how at peace Trevor looked laying there.  

  
Ehh, he was meaning to wash his bed clothes anyhow...  He hated reasoning with himself, but… he might as well let the meth head sleep.

  
Franklin sat down beside Trevor again and stretched out on his back. He picked up the book on his bedside table and attempted to focus on it. He got a paragraph in, but he couldn’t help but glance over at his sleeping friend beside him. Franklin still felt pretty drunk. He felt all kinds of feelings he normally didn’t have to think about when it was just him sleeping in his bed.  He laid on his back against his pillow, glancing back over at Trevor again, who was now breathing slowly.

  
He put his book back on the table and rolled onto his side, placing a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. Trevor twitched at the contact, but didn’t stir, letting out a soft grunt from somewhere deep inside him.

  
Franklin instantly regretted his decision to press himself against Trevor’s back, getting an up close taste of Trevor’s ‘unique’ aroma. He winced, but he found the sensation of a warm body against his to be quite satisfying.

  
_This was for Trevor… Yeah…  The poor, manic son of a bitch._

  
He pushed his arm between Trevor’s side and his upper arm and placed his palm on his chest. Trevor stuck a filthy, calloused thumb between his lips, appearing unnervingly childish..

  
 Trevor must be pretty lonely to break down like he did in the car… But then again, the man is constantly bloodstained and quick-tongued… It's his own fucking fault he's alone... He starts shit on purpose, and he knows it. He never lets anyone truly in. Franklin pushed his temple against the back of Trevor’s skull with a soft sigh, gazing down at his neck. He saw a tattoo of a sparrow below Trevor’s left ear. He had never noticed it before…

  
He had a brief moment of clarity… What the fuck was he doing? Spooning with another man in his own bed? Fuck! Trevor must just have this affect on people…  He felt a pang of regret, but he didn’t think this would be the sort of thing Trevor would bring up to others… 

Well-maybe he would…

  
At that moment Trevor stirred slightly, his legs shifting. One eye opened just a slit and peeked at Franklin beside him.

  
“Ahh, I knew you couldn’t resist my charm. I better not wake up to you pokin’ me tomorrow morning.” Trevor mumbled into his pillow.

  
“Yeah, you’d like that way too much for my comfort, dawg.” Franklin said with an annoyed sigh.

Trevor fell asleep grinning.  
  
] End [


End file.
